Comeuppance
by Writey Starkid
Summary: Pitch tries to get revenge by giving Sandy the worst nightmare he can conjure up -  but he hadn't expected it to turn out quite like this. Angsty oneshot. Slight Sandy/Pitch if you squint.


_Confession: I haven't actually read William Joyce's books, and so my knowledge of Sandy's backstory is based solely off of what bits and pieces I've been able to pick up. That being said, I apologize for any errors, and would appreciate it if someone wants to correct me. I hope you enjoy it anyway, and here we go! Oh, I also apologize for the possibility of weird squishy text._

_Disclaimer: ...Having just demonstrated my ignorance of Sandy's backstory, I should think it obvious that I own nothing._

* * *

It had taken a long time to find the ship, and getting onboard had not been an easy task, but now Pitch Black smiled as he looked down on the sleeping figure before him.

The Sandman rested on a circular golden bed, a blanket of silky dreamsand pulled up to his chin and a light smile on his face. He looked peaceful, Pitch mused, almost cute...and ever-so-vulnerable.

The Boogeyman's wicked grin grew as he took a small bottle from the pocket of his cloak. Black sand flecked with bits of sparkling red battered at the glass from within, eager to escape and do its job.

"Hush, now," Pitch murmured, though whether he was speaking to the sand or his enemy was unsure. He'd been working on this particular little beauty for days, and had no doubt that it would be the perfect revenge for his humiliation at the hands of the Sandman.

"Sleep tight, Sanderson," the Nightmare King whispered, "and don't let the bedbugs bite." With a flick of his long, grey fingers, the bottle popped open. Instantly, eagerly, the corrupted sand flowed from its prison to hover above Sandy's face. It sent out a few tendrils, hesitantly, and then, confirming its target, went to work.

A work of art, Pitch thought, watching as his concoction began to take effect. A slight frown appeared on the little man's face, his brow wrinkling. His lips parted, and he rolled onto his side, instinctively trying to curl away from whatever tormented him. His muscles tensed and he clutched at the blanket, a small whimper escaping from his throat. Pitch was fascinated. It was the first sound he had ever heard from the Guardian of Dreams, and it piqued his curiosity. "Can't guard your own dreams, now can you?" he breathed as Sandy began to tremble, plagued by the nightmare running rampant inside his head...

_~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG ROTG~_

_The Starship soared through the air, and Sandy smiled as he gazed out the windshield into the endless night sky. The control panel let out a crisp_ ding! _with every wish it counted, and right now the dinging was constant and clear. Sandy pulled up on the controls, guiding his Star higher into the air. The dinging began to slow as he sailed out of range of the children's reaching minds. It was a good haul for one night - almost 900 wishes from one country alone - and his job was nearly done for the time being. Rising up through the clouds, the little man turned his thoughts inwards. He liked his job, he really did - there was nothing like flying, especially at night, and helping children made his heart glow. If anyone had asked, Sandy would have said he was completely happy. That, however, was not the case, not entirely. Once dawn broke, he would relinquish his cargo of wishes to his superiors, who would see that they were carried out to the letter. It was selfish, he knew, but that was the job Sanderson really wanted. Collecting the wishes was important, and a task that had to be done, but there was no recognition for the pilot of a shooting star. "Pack mules," he muttered, his voice echoing in the cockpit. "That's what we are." He shook his head, glancing out the windshield. Another Starship was coming into view, and Sandy reached down and flipped on the communications system._

_"Hey, Sandy," a voice said after a moment. "Beautiful night, huh?"_

_"Gorgeous," Sandy agreed. He could see his friend in the cockpit of the other Star, and offered a wave. "How'd it go?"_

_"Well, I don't mean to brag..." Sandy grinned. Jaron always meant to brag. "...but you can say hello to the new record-holder, man."_

_"What?!" Sandy felt a flash of jealousy and looked over to see Jaron giving him a smug smile. "How many did you get?"_

_"Four trillion, six hundred and thirty-six." The pride in the other's voice was unmistakable, and Sandy let out a low whistle. The current record for most wishes collected in one night was three trillion and five - a record Sandy had been secretly planning to beat._

_"Well, congratulations," he said, pushing away a burning sense of envy. "Nice job."_

_"Thanks, man." Jaron was evidently in high spirits tonight. "Can't help but feel a little pleased with myself, you know?"_

_"Yeah, I know." There was a note in Sandy's voice that his friend did not miss._

_"Aw, come on, buddy. Maybe you'll beat my record someday. Hey!" Now, there was a tone Sandy knew well. "I'll race you back!"_

_Seeing a chance to redeem himself, Sandy gunned the engine. "You're on!"_

_The two Starships accelerated through the sky, gaining altitude the whole time. Sandy pressed the pedal down as far as it would go, listening to Jaron's whoops of exhilaration through the radio. He frowned. The other ship was getting far ahead, with an edge Sandy wasn't sure he could beat if it was kept up. A thought crossed his mind, and he steered his ship closer and closer to Jaron's, intending to clip him just enough to send the bigshot off course, giving himself an opportunity to get ahead while the other recorrected. He was so intent on his goal that he didn't think to check his speed, and when the two ships collided, both went spinning. Sandy fought to regain control, hearing his friend's scream over the comms system._

_"Jaron!" he yelled, swerving wildly through the sky, "Are you okay?"_

_"Man, what did you-"_

_"JARON!"_

_The rocky gray planet seemed to come out of nowhere, and Sandy let out a cry of his own as Jaron's ship smashed into the surface. There was a terrified scream, and then silence. Sandy flew towards the moon as fast as he could, and his eyes widened as he collided with the wreckage and felt his own ship falling, falling, falling..._

_~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTROTGR OTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~_

Pitch jumped in surprise as Sandy screamed, his breath coming faster and faster. The golden spirit remained asleep, sweating and shaking, and the taller man tipped his head. "Interesting..." he said aloud. "Now, I wonder what happens if..." He took a handful of ordinary nightmare sand from thin air and blew it into the other's agonized face.

_~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~_

_"You killed me," the shadow hissed, swirling around Sandy's head. "You killed me, and all for your own selfish gain. I'm dead, Sanderson, and it's your fault. I'm dead..." Sandy shifted uncomfortably on the large red sofa, hoping the other Guardians wouldn't notice. It was 400 years to the day that he'd sent another Starship spiraling into the moon, 400 years since he'd woken in the wreckage on a deserted island and taken a vow of silence in honor of the voice he'd cut off in that last, dying scream. The scream still echoed in his head, and the shadow breathed into his ears._

_"What have you gained? I hope it was worth it." Bunny gestured wildly, illustrating whatever point he was trying to make. Sandy could only hear the whispering voice of his lost friend. "Was it? What do you have now that you didn't have then? Was it worth it, Sandy?" The shadow began to whirl and flap like a flag in some tumultuous wind. "Well? Was it worth it?"_

_"So we are decided, then." North's booming voice cut in, and the shadow's whisper vanished, making everything eerily silent. Sandy looked up, wondering what important decision he'd missed out on, only to find that the rest of the Guardians were all staring at him with a rather malicious glint in their eyes._

_"We're decided," said Bunny, rising to his full height, which the short Sandy had always found rather intimidating. The others nodded, and rose as well, reaching for their various weapons. Sandy looked back and forth between them, confused and a bit nervous._

_Jack leveled his staff, pointing it at Sandy. "We can't allow murderers in our group."_

They knew. _Sandy's heart began to pound as took in the disgusted expressions on the faces of his friends. Suddenly he was witnessing the crash in his mind's eye as though it were happening for the first time, and Jaron's last scream rang in his ears, going on and on and on, but at any moment it would cut off, sharply, horribly, and the anticipation of it was killing him, North raised his sword and swung it downward Sandy lashed out and sent the Russian flying across the room where he collided with the wall and there was a sickening snap as his neck broke he'd killed him Jaron was still screaming as the dreamsand slammed the other three Guardians to the floor they were dead Jaron was deadhewasamurdereritJaronwas screamingitwasallhisfault_

_~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~_

Pitch stepped back, mildly alarmed, as tears began to flow down the dreamer's face. He reached out and snapped his fingers, intending to end the nightmare, gloat, and leave. Sandy's eyes remained closed, however, as tears squeezed out of them and his shoulders heaved as he began reaching the point of hyperventilation. Pitch snapped his fingers again, and again, but the nightmare would not be reined in. The Boogeyman felt a growing sense of panic as his creation spiraled out of his control. Finally he grabbed the Sandman's shoulders and shook him, hard. "Wake up! Wake up, you idiot! Wake up!"

With a scream that rent the air and sent birds fluttering for cover on the earth twenty miles below, Sandy bolted upright. He clung to the startled Pitch, instinctively seeking out comfort, and let himself fall to the mercy of sobs that racked his whole body.

Taken aback, Pitch sat down on the bed and let the shuddering Guardian cry desperately into his shoulder. Feeling hot tears fall onto his neck, he wondered for the first time in his life if perhaps he'd gone too far. Was this...was this _guilt_ he felt, twisting his stomach into a tight ball? Why on earth should he care? He should be enjoying the fear the nightmare had brought - fear of the collision, fear for his friend, fear of being found out and rejected by the other Guardians. But Pitch had unearthed more than fear. He'd brought to light a dark secret, a crippling sense of guilt, self-hate...a hell. Rubbing Sandy's trembling back, he closed his eyes.

It was a long time before the tears stopped, and Sandy, exhausted, fell fast asleep, still curled against Pitch's chest. It was a while more before the Boogeyman stood, tucked the little man back into bed, and glided silently out the door, leaving behind only a handwritten note scribbled onto a scrap of paper on the nightstand.

_I'm sorry..._

* * *

_*sobs* I feel so mean..._

_Thanks for reading, everyone! Have a nice day, and as we say in my hometown, don't forget to be awesome!_

_...*has idea for future story* Plot bunny! Hop hop!_


End file.
